Enflamed
by The Flame of Eden
Summary: After the incident at Laboratory Five, Edward is severely injured. Left shaken by his discoveries, he begins to lose hope of finding success until someone once again enflames his desire for the truth. ON HIATUS!
1. Aftermath

**Dear Readers, **

**I'm sure that all of you are familiar with the feeling of inspiration. All of us experience such joy at times. Whether we are inspired to draw, to paint, to create, or to write, inspiration brings us joy as it helps us do what we hadn't thought possible before. This piece was created under such an influence. **

**Although I love to write, this is my first FMA fanfiction, and because I just started watching the series, I will appologize in advance if I managed to get some details wrong. But because this brought me joy as I was writing it, and because it is indeed a fanfiction, I can only hope that you will understand such errors.**

**Before you read farther, this story contains possible relationships between two men (yaoi). If you are uncomfortable with such pairings, then please don't read on. It is not my intention to make anyone uncomfortable, so I am writing this warning in advance. This story also contains violence, strong language, blood, and graphic language and descriptions that some may find unpleasant. If you are uncomfortable with such themes, then please be warned.**

**DISCLAIMER: All character of Full Metal Alchemist manga, anime, or series do not belong to me. Thank you. **

**Enflamed**

**Chapter 1 – The Aftermath**

He wasn't certain how long he'd been chasing them – throwing blast after blast of transmutated material at them in the irrational hope of hitting flesh. The charge that was blasting through him put his body through an entirely new level of pain and agony. He had never felt so powerful and yet so helpless at the same time. Tear. Smash. Pierce. Cut. Burn. Anything, as long as it harmed his enemies. The drive to kill had never been as strong as it was now. He was aware of them turning at times – was aware of them somehow landing hits and being hit at the same time, but couldn't stop. His vision was a red haze. His limbs vibrating and his heart so full of pain that he thought it would burst at the seams. Mind empty, he suddenly wasn't certain _why_ he was chasing after these creatures. His only thoughts were those of desire to see blood spilled.

At last, he felt the clutches of the power wearing thinner and thinner. His thoughts were gaining clarity, and with that clarity came the realization of his limits. Right arm broken and useless. Left leg buckling and refusing to hold his weight. Side torn open. Blood oozing from a splayed open muscle on his shoulder. Falling, at last, to his knees, he dimly heard their voices as they retreated. _Al…where was Al?_He needed to get his body back; he was broken; he was in trouble. _Al! Al, where was he?_ Rememberance. Probably still in that horrid room – full of things that were deformed, grotesque, mutilated by the perverse desire for power.

The world spun out of control as his vision focussed. Yellow eyes met dirty concrete walls. The ground was pressing up against his body – pushing and pushing as if it wanted to throw him off of itself. That was impossible, wasn't it? If it was, then why was everything whirling around? Up. Down. What were those things? What were their definitions? Red. Blue. Purple. Red.Red? Blood. So much blood. He felt its wetness against his cheek. _Am I dying? _No. That couldn't be.

"D-Damn it all…" He _couldn't_ die. There were things he had to do. Al was still alive, and as long as he was still alive, the chance to return what Edward had so cruely stolen was still alive. Upon his life he had vowed to bring his brother's body back to him, and he couldn't die before that oath was fulfilled. With strength he didn't think he had, he moved his automail leg beneath him and pushed himself to his knees. Words left him. He didn't have the strength to say them. Desperation swelled.

He had to find Al.

It became a litany. Suddenly, finding his brother was all that mattered. He had been so badly damaged. But before he could completely stand, a force knocked him back down. The horrid feeling of losing control over his own body nearly made him ill as his temple connected violently with the ground. He was losing his senses.

"Al…no…"

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"What do you mean he's not there?"

Major Armstrong winced, hearing the restrained anger in the Fuhrer's voice. His hand firmly pressed to his forehead in a salut, the Major made sure to sound calm despite his own concerns. He explained that upon finding the room where the suspected material for the red stone was located, they had found the large chamber empty except for about twenty convicts who were all huddled, shivering, in a corner.

"He must have left…" Luitenant Ross said uncertainly. "But why would he…?"

The Fuhrer's brow furrowed. Luitenant Bloch turned dazed eyes to Ross. They were all dazed. Why shouldn't they be? The things they saw in that room were disturbing enough to touch all of their already raw nerves.

"What if he chased after someone? The room is in shambles. Obviously, there was a fight."

"Were the convicts questioned?" Major Armstrong asked.

Bloch shook his head in a negative gesture. Ross put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close, lowering her voice.

"We don't have time. He may be seriously hurt. We have to find him." Major Armstrong agreed. He turned back to the Fuhrer, bowing his head.

"Permission to -"

"Go. Find him quickly."

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Silence had never bothered him before. The absence of sound had always brought peace with it – a comfortable lifting of the burden that daily life brought. For once, there was no ringing phone, no orders to be issued, nor any of the other distractions that seemed to have become a normal part of his office. He should have been enjoying the calm atmosphere, for now he could finally focus on the paperwork in front of him. Reports had to be filed, letters had to be sealed, and only a divine force could save him now from all the rest of the documents he had to read through before he reached the bottom of the accursed pile of parchment.

He should have enjoyed the silence.

But he did not.

Blame it on his earlier phone call to Hughes. Blame it on the man's strained voice. Blame it on the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Wherever he wanted to lay the blame, he couldn't rid himself of the chilling suspicion that something had gone wrong in Central. Hughes did not make it a habit to leave out important information when Mustang inquired on it, and thus he wanted to trust the man's word this time. But something…_something_…nagged. A knock at the door. He bade the intruder to enter. Hawkeye stood at the entrance, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She grinned.

"Thought you may be getting lonely. Need me to keep you company?"

Mustang's lips curved up into a smirk.

"Lonely? Why would you say that?"

A laugh from the Luitenant. "Somehow, I don't think the look you were giving the papers just now was very friendly, and I believe that I can safely say that you're in the mood to burn something."

"Hughes, maybe." His smile turned bitter.

"Did he make you sour again?"

"That phone call…"

"You think he's hiding something?"

A beat.

"Perhaps."

Hawkeye looked away, placing a finger under her chin. She leaned against Roy's desk, crossing one leg over the other. _If it has anything to do with the Elrics, I could see his motive to keep anything bad out of the conversation… _Stealing a look at the Flame, she wasn't surprised. The alchemist looked to be in a foul mood indeed.

"He didn't answer the phone when I called."

"You called?"

"I did."

"He wasn't home?"

"He wasn't anywhere."

"Shit."

"I agree."

The phone rang so suddenly, that both Hawkeye and Mustang jumped. In a flash, the reciever was in Roy's hand. His tone was brutal.

"Hughes…"

Riza heard a muffled voice on the other side of the line and frowned. The man sounded serious for once, and she immediately understood that something was wrong. Her stance stiffened at about the same time that Roy straightened up from his previously laid back position.

"They _what_?"

That tone didn't sound good.

"_How_?"

More muffled talking.

"That _fool_!"

Riza nearly jumped out of her skin when Roy's hand slammed down upon the wooden table with enough force to make it shudder.

"You _lost _him?"

A violent curse left his lips – so violent that Riza knew something was about to be destroyed. A weary sigh escaped him. It had been a while since Riza had seem him look so fazed.

"Just find him. The earliest I can be there is tomorrow morning."

She could only be grateful that the phone stayed in tact when the reciever made a powerful impact with the main body of the machine. Poor thing. But it was probably already used to the abuse by now. She wouldn't ask what happened. Roy would tell her if he felt the need to. Sure enough, she was correct. Reclining back into his seat, the Colonel looked so worn out that she had no doubts that the matter involved the Elrics in some way.

"You are correct, Luitenant." He had read her thoughts, as always. Was she so transparent? She would have liked to believe that they simply had much in common; that their thoughts were identical in many aspects. If she believed that, then some kind of connection could be formed between them on a deeper level than military rank could provide. "It seems that the Elric brothers broke into the abandoned Laboratory Five."

"Lab Five? It rings a bell."

"It in the darker part of Central." Reaching forward, he opened a drawer and pulled out several maps. Unfurling one, he pointed to what he was talking about. "There's a prison about a block away from it."

"I'm guessing that there's more to it than meets the eye."

Mustang let out a sound of sarcastic impatience.

"The Fuhrer sent in some troops to investigate. They must have realized that the Elrics had gone there to do their own digging. Once they broke in, they found a bunch of mutilated corpses and convicts wandering around the complex."

But what could it all mean? She knew that there was no way Hughes could have told Mustang about anything more detailed in their brief phone conversation. A chill was running down her spine. Mutilated corpses? Convicts? What was Edward looking for when he went into that laboratory?

"What about Edward?" She inquired nervously.

"There was a fight. They can't locate him, although they found the younger one badly damaged. I can only imagine what that brat had gotten himself into now."

_That brat_…he said the name so casually, that anyone else would have been fooled into believing that the child meant nothing more than an annoying liability to the Colonel. Yet as she watched Roy run an impatient hand through his hair, she knew better than that.

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It took nearly two hours to locate the older Elric brother. Ross found him lying face-down in a darkened alley about ten minutes distance from the laboratory, blood running inbetween the cobblestones of the street. At first, such terror siezed her, that she nearly dropped her weapon in her haste to get to him. He was white as a bleeched bed sheet, his breathing so shallow that she almost missed its sound. Bending down, she didn't hesitate in lifting him into her arms. Blood coated his clothing in disturbing quantities, and she knew that if she didn't hurry back, there was a strong chance that he would die. She was shocked when he stirred, opening his eyes to reveal drastically dilated pupils. His voice raspy, he spoke.

"Al…where are…I have to…"

"Don't worry, Sir. He's alright."

"Al?" His concern for his brother in light of his own injuries sent a wave of unfamiliar tenderness through her heart. Pressing him close with a look of anguish and concern, she reached into her emergency pack for a signal flare. Pulling the trigger, she sent a fiery flame rushing upwards. The others were bound to see it.

"Just hang in there, Sir. Stay with me."

"…my fault…Al is…" His eyes drifted shut again. The stickiness of his blood was starting to penetrate through her clothes too. In a fluid motion, she put him down him down, tearing open his jacket where the most blood drenched the material. Reaching into her pouch once more, she found a roll of bandages. Even though she knew it wouldn't be much help, she still unrolled it, wadding it together and pressing it to the horrid gash on his skin.

_Hurry…hurry…someone please get here…please hurry… _

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It seemed like centuries before Ross heard the screeching of wheels on pavement. The military car drove right up to them, so close that Ross feared getting run over. Hughes jumped out of the front seat, immediately leaning down to examine the fallen boy. It was apparent that the sight of his condition had shocked him just as badly as it had shocked her.

"Ed! Ed! Say something, damn it!" When the boy didn't respond, the man's eyes widened. Already, however, medics were rushing in from all sides, asking Hughes to move aside so that they could get the boy onto a stretcher. Stepping back to give them some room, Ross found herself standing next to Hughes. He looked down at his bloody fingertips silently. As if he could feel her tention, he put one of his hands on her shoulder.

"The kid will be fine. He's stubborn. He'll pull through."

Another car screeched to a halt beside the other, and Armstrong emerged from the back door. He watched as the medics loaded Fullmetal into the side of the van. Their eyes made contact, and by the expression on the huge man's face, Ross realized that her own features must look dreadful.

"Need a ride?" Hughes asked. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to answer. As she watched Hughes get into the medical car and drive off, she could only hope that his confidence in the boy's strength was not misplaced.

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**If you enjoyed this in the least and wish for me to continue, then please leave a review. Even a single word is encouragement. Reviews are always appreciated and cherished because they are evidence of what my readers think.**

**Thank you very much. **


	2. Questions

**Enflamed**

**Chapter 2 - Questions**

"_Hey, Al! Al! Look at that!" _

"_I see it, nii-san!" _

_Large blue eyes took in the incredible image that his brother pointed at. The sky was on fire. Clouds were thwarted in their plans to tuck the sun away behind them as rays burst out from their prison like long fingers, reaching and hoping to somehow touch the entire ceiling of the world. There they captured embers and lit them up – purples mixing with blues, oranges, and yellows. Edward Elric looked sideways at his brother's face, feeling proud that he was somehow related to the look of happiness on the child's features. At any other time, he would have recited some scientific fact to impress his sibling, but no such facts came to him now. All he wanted to do was to enjoy this moment, and perhaps make it last forever. _

_A gentle breeze ruffled his golden hair, cropped neatly to his shoulders. His mother insisted that he keep his hair nicely trimmed and groomed. He hated it. One day, he would grow out his hair and wouldn't bother with cutting it. Closing his eyes, he allowed the wind to seep into him, almost daring to believe that he was flying. If he looked out in front of him, his eyes could avoid capturing the image of the hill they sat upon, and with such sights omitted could see the farmlands below. In such a way, he could feel that he was a winged bird, suspended in the air, hovering above the people – free. Feeling a tug on his sleeve, he turned his attention back to his little brother with some regret. The child was smiling, giggling, laughing – Edward swore that he had never heard a better sound. Together, they could do anything. They could surpass their father in alchemy, could become great scientists, could make incredible discoveries – _

"_Nii-san…what do you think we're going to do when we grow up?" _

_The question should have been simple to answer. After all, he had only just been considering the possibilities. Yet, Alfonse had asked it in such a tone that something close to suspicion wormed itself into his stomach. He furrowed his eyebrows, a lack of understanding and obvious hesitation transforming his features into a face Alfonse was not too familiar with. The younger boy suddenly looked embarrassed. _

"_I guess…we'll become scientists…" Edward said lamely. _

"_But what about Mom?" _

_Mom? He was amazed to find that his vision of the future held a loophole. But the answer should have been obvious. _

"_If we don't stay here, she'll come with us. We'll go all around the world, and discover new things. We'll set precedents in alchemy, and show everyone just how incredible the Elrics are!" _

_After his excited outburst, Alfonse sat quietly, smiling a secret smile. Edward's plan sounded wonderful. Although it would be difficult to leave home, things would be alright because their mother would be with them. Together, they were unbeatable. He laughed, suddenly, and Edward joined in without a second thought. His younger brother's laugh was always contagious. They continued that way for some time, rolling around on the floor, laughing, tickling each other until both boys were breathless. When they looked up at the sky next, they noted that the sun had almost set. _

"_We should get home," Edward said soberly. "Mom will be worried." _

"_Yeah." _

_They set off for the house at an even pace, occasionally pushing each other and giggling. It took less than ten minutes to reach their home, and both boys smiled when they did. Their mother wasn't outside, and they supposed that she was busy making somethig irresistable for dinner. In his hand, Alfonse held some flowers he had picked along the way. Edward knocked on the door. _

"_Mom! We're home!" _

_No answer. _

"_Mom?"_

_When Edward sent a look of confusion towards Alfonse, the younger boy just shrugged and shook his head. Strange. Knocking again, they waited until impatience turned to fear. Jerking the doorknob fiercely, he was shocked when the door opened willingly under his strength. Forgetting about Alfonse for the moment, he burst into the house, an irrational terror siezing his heart. He searched the house up and down, calling his mother's name until he felt his throat constrict painfully. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his own room, breathing hard from his run around the house. A trembling hand lifted up to touch the door handle. Something told him that beyond that door was something that he did not want to see. _

_He twisted. _

_Twisted. _

_Lowered the handle. _

_Pushed against it. _

_And entered the room. _

_There, on the wooden floor lay something so hideous that it could hardly be considered human. In the place where there should have been a head, rib bones stuck out like spears in a linear arrangement. The mouth was open – no lips, just misplaced teeth and hair. Arms were twisted, wrists broken, knees bent backwards and skin shriveled like all the moisture had been sucked from it. Organs pulsed as if blood flowed through them, twitching and wriggling until Edward thought he would be sick then and there. Blood soaked the floor like bright red paint, its viscous body swirling beneath his shoes and its metallic scent suffocating him. No…it couldn't be…that thing was **not** his mother…A pain came next. A wave of pain in leg so strong that it forced him to his knees. A scream tore itself from his throat and he shot a look at the offending limb, his eyes widening when he saw what was happening. His leg was disappearing! _

"_Al! Al! Where are you?" A siezing desperation gripped him by the throat. Golden eyes wildly searched the room. Surroundings that had been so familiar to him were now strange. Nothing made sense. The walls were growing and he was shrinking, losing hope for redemption and gaining new layers of shame. When he had seen that sunset, he had dared to hope that this dream would be different from the rest – that perhaps it would not turn into the gruesome nightmare that had plagued him for so long. Yet now, as he bled his life onto the wooden floor, as his blood joined with that of the disfigured form in front of him, he understood that there was no going back. There were no chances to do things over, to stop himself from wanting to bring back one of the only people that he had ever loved. He heard a gasp at the doorway and turned – slowly – for he knew who stood there. _

"_Nii-san! What have you done?" _

_The child stood there, stock still, as if he was a statue – a monument to his darkest shame. How could he have fooled himself that things could ever be alright? Already he was losing his arms, legs, stomach, neck – the transparency was drowning him in invitability, engulfing his brother just like his own terror engulfed him now. His brother's eyes were petrified. He screamed his name, over and over, begging him to do something, to save him from the horror. But didn't he understand? There was nothing he could do! Nothing! Still, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out one last time and was rewarded with knives of suffering as his arm began to disappear as well. The transparent force of the Equivalent Exchange dissolved the flesh, the blood, the bone, until there was nothing but a broken, bleeding stump left in the place of a healthy limb. Yet still his brother continued disappearing. _

"_Al! Al! No!" _

"_What have you done, nii-san? What have you done!"_

_A bright glare shoved him backwards onto his knees, and he opened his eyes despite the pain. A small glow hovered there, his brother's voice screaming and shouting his name from the orb. His mind went completely blank. His hand moved on its own accord as he began to desperately make the seal that would bind Alfonse's soul to the giant armor standing against the wall of the room. And all the while, all he could do was applogize… _

"_Oh God, Al! I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" _

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Colonel Roy Mustang stepped down from the train platform at exactly nine in the morning the day after the incident at Laboratory Five. The first hints of winter's snow dotted his thick, blue uniform with fat snowflakes, the small flurry of white later turning into a blizzard that Havoc and Hawkeye would eventually call Nature's personal welcomming party. Much to the enjoyment of the two, Mustang agreed to join them for a drink later that evening, assuming that he would finish all of his duties with the higher-ups at Central. His first priority, however, was paying a visit to Hughes who, as Gracia revealed, hadn't come home from the hospital the night before. Roy could only assume that that meant that Edward had been located, and that his condition was worse than he expected.

_Or maybe he's trying to figure out a way to make that brat stay in bed… _

He knew all too well that the older Elric brother was a pain in the ass when it came to sitting still. That was a major reason why he always took care to find a job for him that entailed traveling. The kid simply couldn't stay still for a minute; the restlessness that came with youth constantly pulled him in different directions. Or maybe he was afraid of staying in one place too long, of getting attached to a location. His musings were interrupted when Havoc called to him from the front seat of the military car that Hughes had arranged for. Hawkeye muttered something about him losing focus when it came to the Elrics, and he had to resist return the favor.

"We're here, Sir."

Mustang nearly kicked open the car door.

"Right."

The large, grey walls of the hospital building gleamed wet from across the street. It was run-down, but due for repairs in January. The facility itself was nearly fifteen years old. Somehow, he couldn't help wondering if the equipment still functioned properly. He was shocked, having been oblivious to the concern that now seemed to be such a large part of his day. Once again, his thoughts were interrupted –

"We'll park the car and join you later," Hawkeye said. _Go_, her eyes told him.

"Thanks."

As the car continued forward, Mustang's cloak billowed in the breeze that its passing created. He shielded his eyes from the morning sun and the glare of snoflakes on rooftops, moving forward until he reached the doors of the hospital.

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_Tick. _

_Tock. _

_Tick. _

_Tock. _

Time had never seemed as sullen as it did in a medical clinic. It dragged along like a crippled old man – lazy and impossibly slow in its tempo. After spending nearly nine hours doing nothing, Hughes had to admit that he felt as if his sanity was slipping. It had been nearly midnight when he and several other nurses had brought Edward Elric into the hospital. Nearly losing him twice during the drive itself, Hughes feared the worst when he actually saw the wounds that tore open his side, shoulder, and thigh.

_How bad is it? _He had asked the doctor. Shaking his head, the older man reponded.

"The major rectus femoris muscle was torn in his leg, which means that the kid won't be doing much walking for a while. Something cut right under his rib – he's lucky it didn't hit the lung or he'd be dead by now. The wound on his shoulder is deep, but luckily isn't something we can't handle." Giving Hughes a grim smile, he bowed his head and asked if he could be dismissed to continue his work. Hughes wasn't sure why he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, but his eyes must have revealed his discomfort for the doctor went on to explain a bit further.

"He should be fine, Sir. If we didn't lose him by now, then the boy has a strong will to live."

A nurse opened the door to the room to which Edward was assigned. He could only see him partially, but Hughes noted the oxygen mask that had been placed over his face. At his questioning look, the doctor explained that it was sleeping gas, a necessary precaution that had to be taken in order for the boy to keep still while they gave him stitches. The clock chimed, and for the first time in a while, Hughes realized the time. Eight thirty. Had it really been that long? _Gracia must be worried_, he thought.

"May I…?" he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the question. The doctor looked hesitant but agreed. Hughes walked into the small room, instantly feeling stifled. Yet, despite the inadequate size of the room, Edward still looked small. He smiled, thinking that the boy would take offense if he knew. Stepping towards the bed, he grabbed a nearby chair and sat down, resting his elbows on the matress. The only sound now was of Edward's labored breathing – ragged, shallow. He hated to see him this way. Normally so full of life and energy, the boy seemed so fragile now that Hughes felt a stab of anger. Why had such a cruel fate been bestowed upon so innocent a child?

"What have you done to yourself this time, kid?"

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When a knock shook the heavy door of the sick room, Hughes assumed that the nurses had come to tell him that it was time for him to leave. When he asked the visitor to enter, he was shocked to find Roy Mustang standing in the doorway, his coat wet and his eyes burning with intensity. Immediately, his gaze slid to the boy on the cot, his eyes narrowing.

"Good morning." Hughes attempted to lessen the sudden tension in the air by forcing a smile. Roy simply inclined his head in acknowlegement of his greeting for the second time in twenty four hours, Hughes wondered if he had done the right thing by telling him about the situation at all. The Colonel's boots squeaked as he made his way towards Edward, setting one gloved hand upon the metallic footboard. "Doc says he should be fine, although he's in bad shape."

"I can see that much," the younger man answered tersely.

"Don't look so concerned. He'll be fine." When his friend didn't answer, Hughes waited until he made eye contact. It was obvious that anger simmered there beneath the strong desire to know who to let that anger out upon. He understood what he wanted. Details. Letting out a long breath, he gestured to another chair that was propped up against the wall. Roy took it and sat down.

"I can't tell you much, because I don't know the full extent of it myself. Edward should be able to tell us more, if he'll agree to cooperate."

"The Lab was supposed to abandoned, but I'm guessing it was not," Roy suggested. A beat. He lowered his voice until it was barely audible.

"It's strange, Roy. Mangled bodies, corpses of dead chimeras, equipment that looks like it was working until _yesterday_ – the convicts that were found there say that they saw General Basque Gran there. We both know he died in action."

As innapropriate as it seemed, Roy smirked.

"So who did they blame it on?"

Hughes wasn't surprised. He had been expecting that sort of response, especially since he was no stranger to how things worked in the military. Stealing a look at Edward, his frown dipped lower. The heart monitor was keeping an even rhythm.

"Scar. But I'm not about to settle for that, and I know you won't either."

"You're right," Roy agreed bitterly.

"In any case, we won't know the truth until..." He didn't get to finish. A rustling sound made both men move confused gazes to the cot. Edward's heart beat stuttered then sped up, the monitor signaling the change with increased volume. His lips opened and he grimaced. Hands shifting, teeth gritted, and pulse climbing, Edward Elric regained conciousness. Heavy eyelids fluttered open to reveal his golden eyes. Slowly, his pupils contracted to accept the onslaught of light. The first person he saw was Hughes, and even then he did not immediately recognize him.

His first reaction was panic.

Heedless of his injuries, his right hard reached up to tear off the oxygen mask, body pulling him up at the same time into a sitting position. Looking around wildly, Roy thought he greatly resembled a cornered animal, fearful and confused. Before he could do anything, Hughes was already ordering him to lie back down. But, of course, the boy refused.

"Al! Where's Al?"

Hughes studied the boy through his glasses, concern overshadowing all other emotion for the moment.

"Lie down! Do you have a death wish?"

But Edward wasn't looking at him. He was looking through him. Frantic eyes scanned the small room.

"Where's Al?"

"He's fine," Roy blurted out before he could stop himself. It's dangerous for him to be here, so Gracia agreed to let him stay at her house until you recover." Hughes sent him a scathing glare to let him know of his "appreciation". But Edward swallowed that piece of information without hesitation, his answer coming out so quickly that neither man could doubt that it was ruled by instinct.

"I have to fix him. Now." The look on Edward's face suggested that he was completely serious. Both men were so shocked at the sudden turn of events that Edward managed to somehow kick his legs over the side of the cot before they could react. The pain must have been immense – his groan of pure agony told them so.

"Fullmetal, where do you think you're going?" Roy asked smoothly. Nowhere, apparently, for right at that moment Edward crumpled forward, his shoulders shaking. Roy stood up, unsure of what he should do. Hughes cursed. Blood stained the white surface of the hospital gown.

"I'm going to get the doc," he mumbled quickly, dashing out of the room before Roy could stop him. Walking over to stand in front of the boy, he did his best to control his annoyance. He looked so pitiful – so defeated.

_Finish me off. _

Even then, after their public battle, he hadn't looked this way. Even when he had him pinned, and even when he knew that he had obviously lost, he still hadn't looked this weak. Always, he had shown him that life couldn't bring him down. Always, he had been determined and unbeatable. Yet now… Something pricked him in his throat and he captured the young boy's chin in his hand, forcing his face up. Gold met onyx. He had been wrong, Roy realized. Those eyes were still flashing fire.

"What did you see, Fullmetal?"

For a while, they simply stared at each other – the intimacy of Mustang's action not passing by unnoticed. The Colone's hand felt warm against his face, almost as if it was already burning. Strange how such a dangerous hand could be so gentle yet forceful at the same time. He was a man who was used to dominance, and somehow, Edward didn't think that he was quite immune. If only the pain would lessen, then could think straight – could think beyond just how stronglyl the Colonel's actions had affected him.

"Tell me."

He would have slapped his hand away from him if he had the strength. But since he lacked it, Edward was forced to put up with the mixture of emotions that raged through him now. His eyes skittered away from Mustang's, their owner terrified of revealing the fear that lay beneath them. Memories of the horrors he had witnessed inside the Laboratory resurfaced and with it his anger. Cadavers, mishapen faces, glowing eyes, and most importantly…

"Homunculus…" he forced himself to say, knowing that Colonel would pursue the issue.

The word was whispered so quietly, that the older man had to concentrate to hear it. When Edward at last returned his glare, it was not as fiery as before. Rarely did he see him as the child that he was, but it was at times like these that he hated Edward Elric the most - hated the way he felt when he was around him. Those huge eyes, that hope for something unnattainable, and the refusal to come to terms with bitterness. He could feel the boy's hot breath even through his glove and remembered that dark night so long ago.

_You can't go around trying to bring back every living creature that dies on you, Edward. It's not possible, and it's not healthy. _

The words seemed so far away, as did the event that prompted them, yet Roy couldn't help but think that the pain and anguish in the boy's eyes now was the same as it had been then.That night, something had happened between them. Seeing him soaked in rain water, his hair hanging down, his clothes hugging his form, he had felt a jolt of electricity upon forcefully grabbing his wrist. And now, in the silent room, that electricity was returning.

"Stop looking at me like that…" Edward whispered.

"Like what?"

But how could he explain the flames that Roy's onyx gaze ignited in his stomach? Was it anger? The heat burned his face, his arms, his legs – everything, until he was left feeling breathless and dizzy. His eyelids felt heavy. He tried to form words, but speaking was difficult. With a forced contraction of his throat, he tried to swallow the lump that suddenly blocked his airway.

"Like I'm…a kid…"

Roy was there to catch him as he fell forward, blood blooming like a red flower on his side. Slowly, he lowered him back onto the cot, feeling an alien emotion creeping into his mind. He didn't have to move away a stray strand of hair from his lips, he didn't have to brush his fingers against his cheek, and didn't have to run the tip of his thumb across his bottom lip. But he did so anyway. He felt it prudent to prove to himself that Edward Elric did not look surreal in the light of the table lamp.

For some reason, however, the effect was just the opposite.

_But you **are** a child, Edward…_

He moved away and sat back down on a chair, running a frustrated hand through his hair. Why, then, couldn't he see him as such?

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

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**To be continued… **

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